You Won't See My Dad Coming Back as a Cardinal

Ever seen those posts about loved ones coming back as a Cardinal? Totally believe it, but you won't see my dad's spirit saying hello while donning red feathers.

I've really enjoyed bird watching as I've grown older. Like, "texting neighbors asking what kind of bird is in my backyard" bird watching. I've always said I'm a grandma in an *insert age here* year old body.

One summer we had a bunch of Orioles and I set out some oranges because the Internet said to. And don't you now it, it was right. Didn't think about all the Raccoons that also liked Oranges. Let's just say it was a little "all you can eat buffet" up on our deck for a while.

Orioles

Scarlet Tanager-

So after my dad passed away, I kept noticing big birds around. Hearing owls made me think of him. Whenever I had deep thoughts or big decisions to make, I would see a hawk. Miraculously, when we took our youngest home from the hospital, a Bald Eagle flew over our car.

I began to almost expect to see a bird of prey when I needed it. Some people are scared of big birds, but I always was drawn to them. Especially after November 5, 2017.

Dad was a Cubs fan, and he made sure everyone knew it. One of my earliest memories is having the Cubby Bear come to his 40th birthday party in our backyard. Every June, my brother, my dad and I would travel to Wrigley to celebrate his birthday. We had all the Cubs gear, and sang "Go Cubs Go" like it was our family theme song.

The phrase "Cardinal fan" was used with disdain in our household. Which is kind of ironic since I am now married to one (although when my dad learned this, he quipped, "He's from Missouri. He can't help it."). We even buried him in a Sammy Sosa jersey, which caused some of his old friends to laugh when they came in to the funeral home. Not a normal response when you approach the casket, but totally something my dad would have wanted.

It never really occured to me until recently why I didn't think of my dad when I saw Cardinals. But now it makes total sense.

I have been wondering a lot about my purpose. After a close friend passed away unexpectedly, those thoughts became more frequent and forceful. For those younger folks reading this, you will probably go through this phase as you get older- and it will come quicker than you think. Such a weird thing, life is.

Last weekend, we were all sick and the kids were laying around watching TV. I had been toying with the idea of a blog for some time, and just thought, "What the heck, might as well give it a try." Thinking of my dad and Suzanne and Christine and Mrs. Wieland and all the people we lost too soon, I made the decision to just jump in and do it.

Monday, I clicked "Publish" on a very basic blog that I had just thrown together. But the words just came pouring out, and I almost felt as if I was getting help from beyond. It all sounds cheesy, but for some reason, I just couldn't stop feeling as if this was meant to be.

Around 5 pm, right after the post, I went outside to let the dogs out. The rain started falling and I could just feel my dad with me. You should have just seen me wandering around in the yard with my sandals and socks, letting the drops fall. Then, the most miraculous thing happened. A hawk, which I hadn't seen all summer, flew low through the yard, about 8 feet in front of me. It was, in total Jerry fashion, being chased by a bunch of smaller, angry birds. I looked at it with amazement, just knowing that this was a message that things were going to be okay.

But you wouldn't see him coming as a Cardinal. He was too stubborn for that.

These days, it seems the word "busy" is looked upon as a badge of honor. We run around all day, filling every moment with tasks, technology, and work. But what if we stopped every once in a while to listen to the birds? Or look at the beautiful things around us? If we quiet our minds, I truly believe that we can hear and see things that our mind can't explain, but our heart understands.

Sending love today and hopes that we can all enjoy the stillness for a while.

Hayley